Perfection
by Phaze
Summary: Lex is enjoying Christmas with his closes friends and family, so of course all cannot be right with the world. Complete. Please R
1. Default Chapter

**Disclaimer:** These characters are on loan from the Smallville television series and the DC Comics Group with out permission and are not my property. They belong to the Warner Brothers Empire, which include the WB network, and DC Comics. No harm or malice is intended.

I would like to thank Christin Haney for her work and dedication to making my work look good.

Thank you for taking the time to read and please enjoy. Comments are always welcomed but please be kind and polite about it. Thank You and God Bless

Set during season three, Christmas comes to Smallville but is 'all' as it seems? 

SEQ CHAPTER h r 1**Perfection: A Smallville Christmas Story**

Chapter One:

December 24, 2003, a small rural town in Lowell County called Smallville, Kansas, USA.

The air was crisp and cold as his lungs ached from the lack of proper warm breaths. His heart was beating so hard and so loud, he was sure that they could hear it beating all the way to Metropolis, or in this case, clear across the snow covered field. His chest heaved up and down while the rasping sound of his own lungs played a sickening song in the muffled noise of his surroundings. It was then that he saw it, a large snowdrift made the night before by the cold winter winds just ahead of the tree line. It was the only cover that could be seen on the open planes, and Alexander Luthor knew he had to get to it before they were able to reach him with their latest attack.

"You can run, Lex," a loud voice mocked from a few yards away. "But you can't hide forever."

With everything that was in him, Lex ran as fast as he could. The instincts were for him to stop the futile escape and just give into his inevitable fate, but giving up was not in Lex's nature, and as his father had stated several times over, defeat was not the Luthor way. So the twenty-three-year-old young man knew he had to get away and find solace if only to live and fight another day.

Taking one last deep gulp of the arctic like air, Lex positioned his body and pivoted up from his knees. Pushing off from the snow covered ground with his calf's and ankles, he tossed his whole body towards the direction of his one true saving grace in time to feel the rush of the wind and the sting of a distinct nip just as a deadly object shot by his ear. Hitting the top of the mound hard, Lex lost all control of his movements. Thrown off by the shock of being struck, he rolled down the back side of the small hill like drift and landed flat on his face in the wet snow. He reached to his right ear with his gloved hand trying to shake off the painful bite.

Rolling onto his back, Lex shot up as quickly as his cold, pain-filled body would allow. Shaking much of the white powered off that had covered him from his dive, he pulled his hand away from his ear. His gloves were made of the same black leather that matched his heavy jacket and it was hard to see past the color but as best as he could tell he was not yet bleeding. Warmth was coming back to his ear and Lex hoped that was a natural response after such a close call and not the gushing of his blood all over himself. He wanted to check again, but there were more important things to attend to.

Pressing his already cold body into the mound of snow, Lex slowly peeked over the top and saw as his adversaries began their approach. Despite the large, looming wall of snow between him and the enemy, they were not giving up and were approaching quickly. He spied the landscape and assessed the situation. There were three combatants, each in a different position, and they were staying low to taking cover behind whatever objects they could find along their path. One approached at 'eleven o'clock,' the other was positioned at about 'high noon.' The third, hanging back and perhaps hoping to go unnoticed, was clearly at 'two o'clock.' Each was armed with their weapons of choice. It was all Lex could do to hold back a gasp at the sight of such insurmountable odds against him.

Ducking down low and smashing his chin into the snow, Lex was able to move just in time as a projectile whizzed over his head. He fell back in defeat. Had he been a praying man this would have been one of those times where a higher power would have come in handy. Still, defeat was not an option. Although all was lost Lex knew he had to make one final stand and feverishly began working at the snow that his impact had crushed and packed together. All was lost, but Lex would not go down without a fight.

Working diligently in the snow, Lex had been turned away when he felt a gust of air behind him that was made by something far bigger then his assailant's weapons. He turned quickly and saw his close friend, the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome farm boy, Clark Kent peering over the snow bank at the approaching attackers.

"Clark?" Lex questioned. "Where did you come from?"

The young-man looked down at his friend with doe eyes. "I was just inside the woods back there." He half nodded to the line of trees some twenty yards away.

Lex studied the distance for a second and could not understand how he was able to travel that far that fast with out him noticing, but Clark was famous for always showing up at the nick of time. However, Lex's head had been a series of blurs and misdirection's in the past few months, so he needed to ask. "Why are you here, Clark?"

Again, the large, bluish-green doe eyes looked down at him. "Are you kidding, Lex?" He almost looked hurt at the question. "You're my best friend. I would never abandon you at your time of need." A toothy grin cross his face, "I always have your back, Lex."

There was no time for any further explanations or concern on Clark's sudden arrival. All Lex knew at that moment was his best friend was there, and that was a warm and comforting feeling for him.

"Do we have a plan?" Clark asked looking over the mound for a quick glance at the approaching enemies.

"Yeah," Lex returned to his work with making projectiles out of the snow. "We go down with a fight and take as many of them with us as we can."

"Lex," a cautious stare came over Clark's face. "I can get us out of here and to safety."

"No," Lex nearly snapped. "These guys have been chasing me all day, and I will not run in defeat," he paused to add seriousness to his tone. "Not this time, Clark. I'm done running."

The air stood silent for a few seconds. Clark could tell from Lex's intense concentration with the snow that he was dead serious about making a final stand. Clark knew he would have to make that stand with him.

After a few moments Lex turned back to Clark with five hastily made snowballs, which were almost falling apart in his hands. "Here," Lex gestured to the pile. "Take a few and lets go down fighting."

Clark smiled holding a stack of about twenty perfectly round and solidly packed snowballs in his arms while there seemed to be a cache' of about forty more at his side where he kneeled. "I got my own," Clark smiled. "Let's take them down."

They could hear the rustling of footsteps and breaking of twigs a few yards off. The two young men took one final deep breath and with a silent count of three and a knowing nod from Lex, they shot up to their feet and began tossing their weapons of choice.

Lex was too cold and his spears too imperfect to get a clear shot at the approaching enemy, but he was able to get the assailant at 'eleven o'clock' to dive for cover behind a small, tumbleweed looking bush.

Clark's spears were more accurate and came at an alarming pace, but the assailants were still able to duck nearly every shot. Lex had to wonder for a second if Clark was really trying as hard as he could.

Out of their armful of weapons, Lex and Clark ducked back behind the snow bank and took stock of their achievement. "I hit one," Lex gasped for the frigid air, "but I doubt a little snow ball is going to keep them down forever."

"Then there is only one thing to do," Clark picked up an armful of his remaining stockpile. "What is important is that we get you out of here."

"What are you going to do?" Lex asked looking up from his frantic attempt at more weapons.

"We are not going to make it out of here alive," Clark told him as he continued to arm himself. "At least not both of us."

"Clark, no," Lex grabbed his friend's arm. "You don't have to do this. We can get out of this together."

"Are you crazy, Lex," Clark nearly snarled. "Didn't you get a look at the amount of weapons they were carrying? They're out for blood and will not stop until they achieve ultimate victory."

"But Clark," Lex tried to caution him. "You can't do this. Not for me."

"I can and I will," Clark returned with a determined stare. "You need to get out of here while I cover for you. There's no other way."

"Clark!" Lex screamed as his friend forced his way from his grip and with one sweeping motion dived up into the air over the tall snow bank at the assailants. Jumping to his own feet, it was as if in slow motion he watched the brilliant ballet of Clark sailing through the air while continuing to lob snowballs at each of the attackers with a blurring speed.

The sight took Lex's breath away as Clark's long body sailed against the backdrop of a perfect winter field and overcast skies above. The whole event was spectacular, so much so that Lex forgot to run and could only stand in amazement at his best friend's latest feat of heroism. But the beauty of the moment was cut short as he could see Clark's left shoulder jerk upwards with the strike of the first enemy's projectile. With a flash of color the young farm boy's body was being tossed about in mid air and snow seemed to be flying everywhere. Clark could no longer throw his futile snowballs as the weapons of attackers were riddling his body.

With a loud scream that echoed across the field and through his own head, Lex let out a blood curdling cry of "NO!" as Clark's motionless body hit the ground hard, sending a blizzard of white powder sailing all about.

The world seemed to stop cold as he stood transfixed unable to move while he watched his friend lay motionless in the cold, wet snow. All movement on both sides ceased as if the reality of the moment was sinking into their collective consciousness. After what seemed an eternity, Lex was able to move his feet again. He rushed around the stacked snow with little concern for his own safety any longer and rushed to his friend's side.

Reaching the limp body, Lex could see that Clark was indeed still alive and he dropped to his knees by his friend's side. "Clark," he frantically looked over every inch on his body at the numerous hits Clark had taken. Lex marveled that Clark could even still be this aware of his surroundings.

"Lex?" Clark's frail hand moved a few inches closer to him through the snow.

"Clark," Lex scooped up Clark's upper body into his arms and turned him face up. He held tightly to him as the younger man gasped for breath. "Why did you do it, Clark?" Lex asked.

Searching for enough air to breath, Clark opened his eyes just a slit and looked into Lex's worried face. "You should have run," he groaned. "I was trying to protect you."

"Oh, Clark," Lex began to rock him. "Why did you do this?"

"I," Clark gasped for air as if it were his last breath. "I wanted to save you."

Lex leaned in and buried his face into Clark's heavy winter jacket as three shadows lurked closer until they were totally encompassing the two young men.

Looking up at them with the glare Lex growled. "You didn't have to do this," his voice broke. "He was only trying to protect me."

The pack was still and silent for a long while until the shadow to the far left lobbed a snowball that bounced off of Lex's shoulder into Clark's open flannel shirt collar and some ran under his tee shirt. "Don't be so dramatic, Lex." The voice groaned.

"Hey," Clark sat up quickly nearly knocking Lex's chin with his head as he brushed the melting snowball away. "That thing's cold."

"Oh, yeah," A girls voice taunted. "Well try these on for size!" The final two figures each threw the two remaining snowballs at Clark's chest. They bounced off into the packed snow beneath the figures.

Clark gave Lex a look of disbelief. "Are you going to let them do that to your fallen hero?"

"Dude," the shadow on the far left stepped into view revealing him to be Clark's best friend since childhood, Pete Ross. "You're already dead. Stay down."

"Sorry, Clark," Lex pushed him away and stood up with a jump. "Its survival of the fittest now."

"Get him!" Both Lana Lang and Chloe Sullivan screamed as they were the two remaining shadows. They gave chase while trying to scoop up handfuls of snow in their pursuit.

"Oh, man," Pete joined the hunt. "With Clark down we actually have a chance of winning this one. Get him!"

Clark watched as his four friends disappeared into the tree line of the woods behind the Kent's farm just out side of the Smallville city limits. He rose to his feet, brushing himself off. He was not able to stop himself from laughing at the sheer fun of the afternoon. He slowly made his way to the tree line where he was pelted by yet another handful of snow against his back.

"Hey," he turned sharply to find Lex, almost doubled over with laughter standing behind him.

"Sorry, Clark," he gasped to regain his breath. "I figured since you were already dead, another hit wouldn't do any harm."

"Great, Lex," Clark smirked. "Now I'm under friendly fire from my own team. That really hurts."

"Clark," Lex made his way over to him placing his hand on his shoulders, while still unable to stand fully straight up from his laughter. "How many times have I told you? If you go into partnership with a Luthor, you might get hurt."

"Lex," Clark helped him to stand while he too was laughing. "I've never seen you like this. I told you, you would have a good time if you came out and loosen up with us for a little while."

Lex was able to regain his composure and looked up at dark haired teen. "You're right Clark," he grinned widely. "You always know how to save me from myself."

"That's what friends are for, Lex," Clark pat him on the back. "I'm always there for you."

"There you are," Chloe's voice pierced the peace as she; Lana and Pete emerged from the woods. "Its over now, Luthor," she sneered holding up a freshly made snowball.

Clark pushed Lex aside and step in front of his friend. "You don't want to do this guys," he warned with a sincere voice.

"Again with the dramatics, Clark," Pete shrugged his shoulders. "Besides, you're dead, lay down."

"I didn't really die," Clark tried to think of an excuse for his sudden rise from the dead. "Lex had a vile of miracle juice in his jacket and after leading you guys away, he came back and fed me the cure before I actually died."

"Get real, Kent," Lana cocked her head. "That's like waking up and finding you're still alive in the shower. That stuff only happens on television."

"Hey," Clark continued his rebuttal. "I came up with this game, so I make the rules."

"You didn't invent snowball fights, Clark," Chloe chimed in. "Now get out of the way so the bald man can get his just desserts."

"Yeah, Kent," Pete stepped closer holding the snow over his head.

"I'm warning you, Pete," Clark took a defensive pose.

"Clark!" A woman's voice called from the back door of the warm yellow house, a fair distance away. "Its time to come in and get cleaned up for supper," Martha Kent called from across the field. "All of you!"

"Yes, Ma," Clark called back as they all looked over to see her wave.

Clark turned back to Pete quickly. "Gotta go," he smiled as he slapped Pete's hand down forcing the snowball to smack the assaulter in his own head. He then spun around with a large toothy grin towards Lex. "Run!"

The two boys took flight while the girls attempted to follow, lobbing their own projectiles at the pair. Pete, with flakes running down his face, attempted to catch up all the while scooping up handfuls of the fluffy white stuff in his journey.

The tossing of snowballs back and forth continued the entire few hundred yards back to the house as each turned and screamed when hit and laughed in delight at their chance of restitution.

The five of them were like children as they clamored in through the back door and piled out of their heavy cloths just as dusk seem to settle across the fields outside. They were lightly pushing and shoving at each other to get a better stand until the rush to get close to the door gave way and Clark fell to the wet floor. Jonathan Kent turned from his stand at the kitchen stove and gave them a raised eyebrow.

"Sorry," Clark tried to regain his sheepish composure as the other giggled behind him.

"Be careful, son," Jonathan warned half harshly. "All of you take your shoes off and leave them on the mat by the door and place your coats on the hooks above it."

"Yes, sir," the less than cheery voices came back one at a time. Before long, there were four teens and one young adult standing in the middle of the kitchen in stocking feet. Some of their heals were a bit wet, while Clark's entire right side was soaked from his fall.

"Here you go," Martha entered the kitchen holding out three sets of slippers. "These are Jonathan and Clark's slipper plus and extra pair." After the boys each took a set, she pulled the knitted slippers from under her arms. "And here are a few pair of my own home made snuggies."

"Or puppons, as Clark use to call them," Jonathan added with a grin.

"Dad," Clark gushed as his face turned slightly red.

"Sorry Clark," his father replied with a deep throaty chuckle. "Everyone sit down and I'll pour you a cup of my world famous hot chocolate to warm you up before we all move to the dining room."

The noise of chairs moving as the kids slipped into their warm foot wear was nearly deafening for a few seconds while Jonathan poured the contents of his warm pot into the large set of mugs that were lined up along the counter by the stove.

"So, Lex," Jonathan grinned placing two mugs before the girls after the ruckus had died down. "What did you think of your first real snowball fight of your adult life?"

"Actually," Lex sighed looking up at the elder blond man. "My first snowball fight ever, Mr. Kent."

"What?" Clark chuckled as he tried to dry his arm with the dishcloth his mother gave him. "You can't be serious."

"Actually I am, Clark," Lex replied taking his warm mug from Jonathan's hand. "In boarding school I was the object of many warranted snowball attacks, but I never actually fired back."

"Are you saying that you never retaliated?" Chloe asked sipping on her mug.

"Not in such a small favor," Lex said with a hint of mischief in his eyes. "I always had an army of Luthor Corps lawyers and body guards who were willing to slap an injunction on my classmates for harassment and assault." He took a small sip and then remarked to their surprised looks. "Needless to say I was never felt welcomed at any school I ever attended for very long."

"I find it hard to believe that you never struck back," Lana shook her head.

"And don't believe it, Miss Lang," A strong resounding voice came from the living room as Lionel Luthor entered the room looking very relaxed in his turtleneck cardigan sweater with matching sports coat. "I am afraid that as usual, my son is glossing over his own dubious deeds in these matters."

After a quick glance at Lionel's entrance, four sets of eyes around the table were aimed back at Lex. "I never did anything that was uncalled for."

"Such as a cherry bomb in the boys lavatory two minutes before lights out," Lionel spoke up with a hint of amusement. "Or the entire trash bag filled with ice cold water dropped from the second story window of your dorm room."

"Hey, you try and find triple-enforced Hefty bags while in a prep school," Lex grinned.

"My favorite was, of course, the taping shut of the school's football captain's butt cheeks while he was asleep," Lionel finished with the taunt.

"Lex?" Clark eyed his friend with disappointment.

"I heard about it in a movie once," Lex shrugged. "I wanted to see if it could actually be done."

"What did you use?" Pete asked with wide eyes.

"Lets just say that Duct Tape is a multi use tool," Lex replied with a hearty smile as he raised his mug to his lips.

"Oh," Pete tossed himself back in his seat. "That was so cold, Luthor."

"Yes," Lionel sighed. "That school was almost his longest stay if Lex had made it past the first four months."

"Not even Luthor money could buy off a congressman's son," Lex raised his mug as it giving a toast. "It was my first lesson in there being a higher power than my father."

"Don't you worry, Lex," Lionel smirked. "Come election year, we are all on equal ground again."

The room was silent after a quick laugh and Lex turned his attention to his father again. "So Dad, what brings you to the Kent home on Christmas Eve? I would have thought there were a million things to attend to back in Metropolis."

"Are you kidding, son?" Lionel slipped into the wood chair at the far end of the table. "I would not miss another annual Kent Family and Friend Christmas Eve Dinner if my life depending on it."

"That's right," Martha placed a warm mug of coffee before him. "I spent the first three months of this year reminding your father how disappointed we all were at his snub last year," she seemed to jokingly nudging at his shoulder with her elbow. "My plan was to shame him into coming for sure this year, and it worked."

A strange twinge of 'something is not right with this picture' came over Lex for a second, but he shrugged it off. "I guess if the Mister and Missus Kent are happy to have you here, then so am I," he raised his mug again.

"The Luthors are always welcome in our home," Jonathan said slipping back in the door with an armful of logs for the fireplace. "I'm sure having a few billionaires around from time to time won't hurt the property value either."

"Jonathan," Martha slapped his shoulder playfully as he passed by her.

"That is quite alright, Martha," Lionel smiled up at her. "I am sure that there may actually be some validity to that statement in some people's minds."

Again the twinge of misplacement struck at Lex's consciousness, but he still shrugged it off. No one else in the room seemed to be having any misgivings with any of the events, and everyone actually appeared to be enjoying each other's company, including the presence of Lionel Luthor.

"So tell me," Martha spoke as she returned to her spread of food that was being dished into serving bowls on the counter. "How did the dedication go in Metropolis this morning, Lionel?"

"Very well, actually," he replied sitting back in his chair. "I'm sorry that you could not make it to the event. I could always use my valuable assistant by side at these dedications."

"Well, I'm sorry," Martha grinned with her divided attention. "I just had so much to do for tonight's party that I just couldn't pull myself away."

"Here, Mrs. Kent," Chloe jumped up and took the large serving bowl from her hands. "Let me bring that into the dinning room for you."

"We'll help, too," Lana added as she stood nudging Pete's arm. "The sooner the food is in place, the sooner we can eat."

"I'm all for that," Pete chimed in, willingly taking two bowls in his grasp and followed the girls into the next room.

"Dedication?" Lex repeated with a puzzle look. "I don't remember any dedication on your calendar."

"Nonsense, Lex," Lionel gave his son a cursed stare. "I have been practically begging you to go to this event with me for the past two months, but you wouldn't have any part in a dedication named after your little brother."

"Little brother?" Lex was confused and made no efforts to hide it.

"Yes, Lex," Martha joined into the conversation. "The Julian Luthor Pediatric Wing at Metropolis General Hospital. Since your father donated the money to build it, the hospital insisted that it be named after a family member."

"And who better to name the children's wing after than the youngest Luthor," Lionel grinned at the thought.

Lex thought for a moment. "The Julian Luthor Memorial Pediatrics Wing," he said aloud. "It has a real ring to it."

"What memorial?" Lionel looked shocked.

"Yeah, Lex," a young voice came from the hall behind him. "Who are you trying to call dead?"

With a start, Lex turned quickly to see a young boy about twelve years in age standing in the doorway. He was slim, but still strong and handsome with his auburn hair cut short over his cheekbones and jaw line. There were still hints of baby fat, but it was apparent from his build and his flush demeanor from running up the hall that this was a very healthy and active little boy.

The striking resemblance to himself at that age brought recognition to Lex's mind in an instant. "Julian?"

"Yeah, Lex," The boy crossed his arm defiantly. "Just because I spent the night over here with the Kents doesn't me you can count me out just yet."

"Julian," Lex repeated with a start again. "Oh, my God, you're here."

The younger Luthor looked strangely at his older brother. "What is wrong with you, Lex?" He questioned as he slowly entered the room. "You look like you haven't seen me in forever."

"Perhaps," Lionel commented from a few feet away. "Your brother may actually be building up a fondness for you on this holiday season."

"That would be a first," Julian snarled.

"Hey, buddy," Clark pulled the boy close to him and wrapped his arms around the youth from behind. "Remember what we talked about last night?"

Julian nodded once.

"Good," Clark pulled him closer. "Just because Lex may give you a hard time doesn't mean he doesn't love you."

The alarms were going off in Lex's head, but still the sight of his long believed lost brother pulled at his heart, and a tear rolled down his face. "Julian," his dry lips parted with a cry. "Clark is right, I don't hate you," he paused hoping to show some semblance of control. "I love you, little brother."

Clark quickly released the boy who threw himself into his brother's arms. "Oh, Julian," Lex wept uncontrollably. "I thought sure I had lost you forever."

Julian, surprised and confused returned the hug anyway, and then whispered, "But it was only one night, Lex."

Lex could not explain his own reactions any more than his brother, but he said what was in his heart. "It felt more like an eternity, little brother. It felt like you were gone forever."

Lionel Luthor rose slowly from his chair and walked over to his sons who were still locked in the embrace. He leaned over and placed his hand over both of their heads. "I never thought I would see this day," he gushed with heartfelt emotions. "After all the times I have tried to pit you against each other in mortal combat to see which should be my rightful heir, you have both managed to find some way to love each other as brothers in the way it always should have been."

He crouched down and the three Luthors placed their heads together in a moment of loving affection. Lionel wrapped his arms around his sons' shoulders and embraced them together. "This," his voice cracked. "This is a Christmas miracle."

"Indeed it is," a gentle woman's voice came from behind them.

The voice broke through the moment like a sledgehammer, and Lex's attention was immediately drawn to it. He knew the voice almost as well as he knew his own, but it had seemed so long since the soft tone and gentle lilt had tickled his ear and rested in a feathered fashion against his mind. The sound was more welcomed than a haunting tune and more desired than all the world's riches.

Squinting with urgency, Lex laid his blurry eyes on the sight of the lovely red haired woman who stood in the doorframe to the dining room with Martha's arms draped around her for comfort. Her hair was long and silky as it reflected the colored lights from the Christmas garland. Her face was still strong and vital with the type of youth a million years could not touch. Her lips were strong and flowery and she had no need for makeup and in fact wore none. The long flowing dress seem to drift in the warm flow of wind that came from nowhere in particular, while her blue eyes danced and laughed in their perfect place despite the apparent tears. These were not pained filled eyes like the picture of her in his mind, but they were healthy and rich blueness seemed to cascade on into forever like the oceans Lex had seen in his youth. She was strong. She was vital. She was the woman he had always seen her as, and hoped he would see her as again. Lifting his head even the more, Lex took in her full beauty. She was Lillian Luthor, and she was his mother.

"My three boys," here gentle voice rang across the room. "Together in an embrace." Covering her mouth, she gulped for air and then slipped aside her hand. "This truly is a Christmas miracle."

Alexander Joseph Luthor forced himself up to his feet in spite of his shaking body and weakening knees and slowly glided across the floor towards her. Without realizing what he was doing, his hand did not leave his brother's back, but was in fact gently pushing him along with his journey. The few feet to stand before her seemed as miles and the seconds were eternities. His free hand rose to her face, and Lex touched her warm inviting cheek as her hands caressed his.

"Mom," the word nearly died in his throat as Lex tossed himself and his brother forward into his mother's waiting arm. "Oh Mama," he sobbed wildly into her shoulder. "You've come back to me, Mama."

Lillian wrapped her long arms around her handsome son and held tightly to him. "Baby," she too cried. "I never left you."

Lionel pulled Julian free from the smothering of his brother and Mother between them and held tight to his youngest son as he watched Lex and Lillian adoringly. The Kents were also watching in a loving family embrace from across the room, but no one dared to speak in possibility of ruining the moment.

After a long while, Lex looked over his mother's shoulder at the remainder of his family and the family that had at times been even closer, and he marveled at the joy he felt in the moment, but a twinge kept gnawing at him. He pulled his mother in closer and continued to cry.

"Somehow I feel like this is not right," he whispered more to himself than anyone else, "but I don't care."

Lillian ran her hand down the back of his baldhead, and Lex cried again, "I don't care."

To Be Continued


	2. Chapter Two

SEQ CHAPTER h r 1Perfection: A Smallville Christmas Storytc "Perfection: A Smallville Christmas Story" 

Chapter Two

His time in the Kent's bathroom seemed like forever as Alexander Luthor rubbed cold water on his face for the third time. He kept looking at his reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror and could not help but wonder what could possibly be wrong with him. Everything in his life was perfect like he had always hoped it would be, but still there was a nagging twinge, a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach that all was not well, and his entire world, if not he himself, was completely out of place.

He was so caught up in trying to figure out what could be amiss that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the gentle rapping on the door. Knocking the set of toothbrushes from their perch around the cup holder with his start, Lex regained his composure and tried to tidy up the small mess he had made.

"I'll be right out," he called, wiping the spilled water with a few pieces of toilet paper. "Just a minute."

"Lex?" The concerned voice of his best friend Clark Kent called back from the hall. "You've been up here an awful long time."

"I'm," he stumbled on his own words. "I'm fine, Clark. I just lost track of the time."

Wiping his hands on his pant leg, Lex reached for the doorknob and opened it to a very worried looking Clark Kent. Clark had changed out of his wet snowballing cloths into a fresh pair of jeans. He had on an over sized red sweatshirt with a hint of a blue tee shirt around the neck. "Everything is okay, Clark," Lex tried to smile past his concern.

Clark had known Lex well enough to know something was up, and he slipped into the small room next to his friend. He eyed Lex over carefully and determined that, indeed, his friend was lying.

"You're not okay, Lex," Clark's instincts kicked in and he felt Lex's head with the back of his hand. "You are warm, but not feverish," he said, still searching for a sign of the problem in his face. "Did you overdo it in the snow? Some people don't handle the cold and wet as well as others."

"I'm fine," Lex raised his arms to emphasize the point. "I just lost track of time."

"I don't know, Lex," Clark leaned against the wall behind him. "You haven't been home from the hospital all that long. Maybe we pushed you a little too early today."

"Clark," Lex leaned in. "For the last time, I am fine. Stop trying to mother me to death."

"Okay, okay," Clark put up his hands in a defensive pose. "I was just worried about you. I mean first you said you needed to use the upstairs bathroom. Then I had time to undress, dry off and put on a whole new set of cloths while you were in here being real mysterious."

The knee jerk reaction was to keep putting up his defenses, but this was Clark Kent Lex was dealing with, and he knew from experience that the farm boy had a sixth sense when it came to detecting a problem. He would not give up until his hero complex was able to fix it. Lex took a deep breath and leaned against the sink counter behind him as he face his friend.****

"I'm not sick, Clark," his tone was soft and he hoped assuring. "At least not like you are thinking."

Clark crossed his arms over his chest and tried to catch Lex's eyes that were looking at every object in the room but his own. "What is it, Lex?"

After several seconds of toying with his hands, Lex's head rose. "I'm confused, Clark."

"Confused?" Clark repeated. "What about?"

Letting out a long breath, Lex glanced up at the ceiling. "Everything, I think."

"Lex," Clark tried to be supportive. "The doctors said that this might happen if you tried to push yourself too hard too fast. You just need to slow down a little."

"Clark," their eyes finally met. "I can't explain it, but everything seems wrong."

"How, Lex?"

Their conversation was interrupted by a soft knock on the open door, and they both turned to see Ryan standing with a short stack of towels.

"Ryan?" Lex's jaw dropped.

"Hi, Lex," Ryan returned with a nod handing the towels off to Clark. "Mom asked me to bring these up to put out in here." He explained not taking his eyes off of Lex's amazed stare at him. "She didn't know anyone would be using this bathroom and forgot to put them out before company came over."

"Thanks," Clark took the stack and slipped them into the linen closet next to where he stood. "Tell Mom we'll be down in a minute."

"Sure," Ryan smiled at both of them. "You better hurry, because Mister Luthor is threatening to eat all of the stuffing before anyone else has a chance for seconds."

"No problem," Clark laughed closing the door behind his little brother and turning back to Lex who was still dazed by the appearance of the teen.

"What is it, Lex?" Clark finally asked. "Did Ryan upset you?"

"Ryan," Lex snapped out of his daze state, but still remained confused as he looked at Clark. "Ryan is here, living?"

"Of course," Clark placed his hand of Lex's shoulder and looked into his eyes. "Don't you remember? My folks adopted him last year after you found that doctor who was able to operate and remove the brain tumor that was killing him."

"He survived?" Lex asked.

"Yes, of course he did," Clark almost chuckled. "Ryan has been perfect ever since he recovered and he and Julian have become the best of friends. Even with the age difference, they were able to become fast friends, and to be honest, I think they are using our bond as a role model."

"Julian and Ryan are friends," Lex rolled the idea around in his head for a few seconds. "That's great, Clark." His face was contrary to his words and Clark was quick to notice.

"What is it, Lex?" He tilted his head to look at Lex's turned away face. "Is there something about Ryan and Julian that you are confused about?"

After a long pause, Lex finally raised his head and looked straight into Clark's eyes. "Everything about them is wrong, Clark."

Clark remained silent and looked longingly at his friend.

"I can't explain it Clark," Lex insisted with a grunt. "But everything inside of me is telling me that this is not right. I know in my heart of hearts that this is not right."

The two young men stood silent for several minutes as they could hear the enjoyment and revelry of an entire house filled with people enjoying themselves one floor below. The sounds of joy only left an even more eerie feeling in the pit of Lex's stomach.

It was a few more minutes before Lex and Clark made it down to the bottom of the steps and stood for a moment in the hall just outside of the dinning area. They listened to the joy and revelry of all the people in the next room, and Clark could not help but smile at the delight in each person's voice. He saw that Lex was unable to share in that joy, and put his hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright, Lex?" He said softly. "I'm right here to help, and I won't leave you."

Lex nodded once tapping Clark's hand. "Thanks, Clark." They then made their way into the room.

"Well, how nice of you two to finally join us," Jonathan remarked with a grin as they walked up behind his chair at the far end of the table.

"Its about time," Lionel added dishing some stuffing onto his plate from the opposite far seat. "We were considering the cost effectiveness of sending out a search party for you."

"Oh, Lionel," Lillian slapped his shoulder playfully from her seat to his right.

"That's it, Lionel," Martha called out from Jonathan's right hand. "The boys are back, so I am cutting you off from anymore stuffing to make sure there is enough for everyone."

"Huh," Julian snickered from his place next to his mother. "I bet no one has ever told you no before."

Lionel tossed Julian a little annoyed smirk.

Clark took his usual seat next to his mother just to the left of Lana. "I guess this seat would be mine," he remarked as he sat down.

Lex made his way over to the opposite side and saw where Ryan was seated to Julian's right from his seat at Lillian's side. "Hey, Ryan," Lex tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Mind moving over one so I can sit next to my little brother?'

"Sure," Ryan slid to his right taking his full plate of food with him. "But you'll have to fight your Dad for your own stuffing."

Lex chuckled as he slipped into his seat. "I'll take my chances," he said with a smile. "I think my father and I have learned how to barter by now in life."

Julian had stopped eating and was watching his brother attentively.

"Hey, squirt," Lex gave him a quick half hug. "You don't mind me asking Ryan to move, do you?"

"No," Julian replied with knife and folk in hand lingering over his plate. "But how come?"

Placing a napkin over his lap, Lex stopped half way as he reached for the mash potatoes. "How come what?"

Julian shot his Mom and Dad a quick look and then turned back. "How come you want to sit next to me all of a sudden? Back home, when you aren't torturing me, you are just plane avoiding me all together."

The statement stabbed at Lex's heart. "I don't always torture you, Julian," he paused. "Do I?"

"Face it Lex," Julian lowered his utensils and looked away. "You hate me, and even say so all the times."

Again, it were as if a knife were piercing Lex's heart, and it was all he could do to keep from becoming physically ill. Of all the things that did not feel right to him at this moment, this was the most damaging.

Lex folded his hands and leaned forward on the table. He wanted to jump out of his skin at that moment, and he could feel the eyes of the room staring at him. He knew he had to regroup himself and say something fast. Turning his head to look into his brother's deep blue eyes, it took everything for Lex to keep from breaking down. He could barely remember a moment with this child who was his closest flesh outside of his mother's womb. The thought that he could have tortured this young soul and not recall his misdeeds tore a hole in his heart. But still, Julian's honest and kind face waited for an answer.

Lex wrapped his left arm around Julian's small frame and the other around his head pulling him close. "I've had a change of heart, little brother," he forced his tears back. "I was wrong all those other times."

Not sure what to do, Julian shrugged his shoulders. "It's no big deal, Lex," he said pulling away. "I'll get over it."

With out further conversation, Julian returned to his plate and the others around the table tried to do the same. "Here," Clark's voice said softly from across the table holding out a bowl of string beans.

The voice snapped Lex's out of his trance and he looked across at Clark's comforting face. If anyone at that table could help him though this confusion, he knew Clark would be the one to try. "Thanks," he took the bowl and began to spread food across his plate.

"Lex," again a voiced called out to him. He found himself transfixed by the bright lights and decorations of the Kent's Christmas tree in the living room. The glow from the branches lit the entire room with a warm shine as an old CD of musical Christmas tune played softly in the background. Lex turned quickly at the sound of the voice, but no one was there. It seemed everyone had found somewhere else to be at the moment, and he honestly could not remember how he got from the dining room to the decoration. Yet still, that voice was sure and apparent and he spun around two more times.

"Hey, Lex," Clark showed up as if by magic and stopped him dead in his spin. The younger man held his shoulders firmly and looked into his eyes. "Lex," he repeated. "What's with the spinning? You're going to make yourself sick."

"Oh, yeah," Lex forced a small grin. "I wasn't thinking. I just thought I heard my father's voice and I was looking for him."

"Well, you're hearing things, buddy," Clark slapped his arm as he pulled away. "Your dad is out in the livestock barn with my Dad studying the new milking machine my dad bought."

"Oh," Lex rubbed his face for a second. "I must have been imagining it."

"No big deal," Clark placed his hands in his jean pockets and shrugged. "Happens to me all the time."

Lex tried to move past it and turned his attention back to the tree.

"Beautiful, isn't it," Clark commented. "My mom really knows how to deck the halls."

"Yeah," Lex agreed with amazement in his eyes. "Your mom could do this for a living if she wanted."

"Don't tell your dad that," Clark walked over to the sofa. "It's all she can do keeping up with the demands of being Lionel's personal assistant with out adding 'official office decorator' to her job description."

Lex turned just in time to see Clark lower himself into the over sized couch. "You're mom still works for my dad?"

"Of course," Clark spread his lanky body wide across the furniture. "My dad keeps asking her to quit because he says it's lonely around here during the day with out her, but my mom won't hear of it," he said. "She loves her Luthor Corps job and won't give it up without a fight."

The idea of Martha still working for Lionel made Lex's stomach jump again like when he first saw Julian. Was this another of his 'out of place' moments? They seemed to be coming so quickly, that even he did not know for sure.

"Lex," Clark called again from the sofa. "What is going on with you today?"

Walking over to the couch, Lex looked down at his friend. "I don't know, Clark. Everything seems so strange to me again."

"Maybe if you talk about what you are feeling, it might help you to work it out in your head," Clark said as Lex slipped down next to him. "Mom says that if people only took the time to listen to themselves from time to time, the right foot might actually know what the left foot is doing."

Lex gave him a rye look.

"I know," Clark tossed his hands up. "My dad is better at the metaphors than mom."

The room seemed very serious again for a minute as Lex tried to work out the fog in his head with his words. "I wish I could explain it, Clark. I just seem so out of place."

"But how, Lex?"

Thinking for a minute, "I know that everything is right like you and I being here together for the annual Kent's Christmas Eve dinner. We've had one ever since our car crash two years ago, but it's like either something or someone is missing," he stopped for a minute and then looked into Clark's face. "Or maybe that someone is here who shouldn't be."

"How can that be, Lex?" Clark asked. "Our families are here like they have been every year, and even Pete and the girls."

"Ryan?" Lex questioned.

"This is his second year since we adopted him," Clark reminded him. "The only change is Whitney is gone, but he was gone last year too."

"Oh, yeah," Lex looked away with a sense of sadness. "Whitney."

"Come on, Lex," Clark reached across and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's Christmas and you just got out of the hospital, so try to enjoy it."

A small spark seemed to light up in Lex's head as he looked over at the tree. "Hospital?" The music grew almost haunting as he stood up again. His steps over to the tree were slow and deliberate, but the lights and tinsel seemed to shimmer more brightly with every approaching step. "I was in the hospital." He spoke softly.

"Yeah, Lex," Clark sat forward on his seat. "You were real sick for a while, and to be honest, you had me worried about weather you would ever make it out of there."

Reaching his hand up, Lex touched the small crystal angel that reflected the colors of the multi-textured lights around it. "I was that sick?"

"Sure," Clark stood up. "You were really out of it when you first went in, and although they wouldn't let me in to see you, your father said that they had to try several different drug treatments before they found one that helped you to get better."

"Drugs?" Lex turned to him. "I don't remember, Clark."

"I guess you wouldn't be able to remember all the drugs in the condition you were in," Clark told him trying all the while to sound comforting. "Like I said, you were out of it for a long while."

"No, Clark," Lex's eyes became large. "I don't remember the whole thing. The hospital, the drugs or even being sick."

The revelation made Clark to squint his eyes. "Are you sure, Lex?"

Lex stared at the angel in his hand again. Even away from the tree, it still seemed to shimmer with the lights. "I swear to you, Clark," he looked up. "I don't remember one thing about it. I can hardly sort through the events of my life before today, right now."

Clark reached his right hand and placed it comfortingly on Lex's left. "I sorry, Lex."

A thought came to Lex's mind as he reached up with his hand and grasped onto Clark's sleeve. "Clark," his tone was soft but demanding. "Why was I in the hospital?"

The question put Clark at an obvious unease. "Come on, Lex," he shifted his weight for a moment. "It's Christmas Eve, why do you want to bring up bad memories if you can't remember them anyway?"

"Clark," Lex became demanding. "Please tell me the truth. If I can't remember why I was there, then it must have been bad for me to black it out and still having problems placing everything around me."

"It's not important, Lex," Clark tried to excuse the topic.

"But is it important," Lex's voice got slightly louder. "It is important to me. This is my life."

The room was deathly silent for a moment as the music was drowned out, and all each could concentrate on was the other. Lex's hand was shaking as he continued to hold fast to his teen friend. This was too important for him to let go, and he was a Luthor after all, and Luthors did not take well to people keeping secrets. Especially when the secrets were concerning his blacked out memories.

Clark's lips parted slightly, and there was no hint of a smile on his face at all as he spoke the words. "You had a break down, Lex." He paused to let it sink in, and then he repeated. "You had a total mental breakdown."

The words actually made Lex stagger back a step as he fought to regain his breath. "I," he stammered. "I had what?"

"Lex," Clark grabbed him with both hands to steady him. "Take it easy. You're okay now. You have to remember some part of the ordeal on some level?"

The wheels in his head were turning, but still no recollection of his stay in a mental ward came to Lex's mind. Something had to be wrong, and that is why everything else seemed so out of place.

Clark led him over to the sofa, and the two of them sat next to each other again. Lex stooped forward as Clark rubbed his back. "Breathe, Lex." He coached. "Everything will be okay."

Wiping his face with his hands, Lex grunted. "How, Clark? I was locked away and I don't even remember being sick."

"It's okay," Clark assured him. "The doctors said that your short term memory would be affected, maybe even wiped out for a while. It is expected and not the end of the world."

"My world," Lex nearly snapped. "It's my world, and there is a whole piece of it that I don't remember."

"I'm sorry," Clark, continued to try and comfort him. "I'm sure it is hard not remembering, but its all over now, and maybe it is better that you don't remember all the details."

"I don't remember any details," Lex corrected. "The things that they could have done to me while I was out of it."

"Don't think about that, Lex," Clark almost pleaded. "Can't it be enough that you are home again, and we are having this perfect Christmas?"

The hurt and desperation lingered in Clark's eyes when Lex looked back. He turned away and buried his face in his hands. "How long?"

Clark's hand stopped moving across his back as he pondered telling the answer.

After a few seconds, Lex looked back over his shoulder. "Please, Clark."

"Just over a month, Lex," He replied with grief. "They released you just a few days ago and said that you might be losing some of your short term memories for a few more weeks as time goes on."

Lex slumped back and leaned his head against the back of the couch. "Oh, my God, Clark. I've lost a whole month of time and who knows how much more I can't remember."

"Lex," Clark leaned back next to him crossing his arms. "Try not to think too much about it. Nothing you can do will bring any of that time or memories back."

Letting his head fall to the left, Lex looked over at Clark. "How bad was I?"

Clark studied the ceiling for a moment. "I'm not sure I can help you with that," he replied. "They wouldn't let me visit with you very much, and when I did, it was usually a few minutes at the time while you were for the most part, unresponsive."

"I'm sure," Lex thought about it. "I'm sure that just knowing you were around, even if I was not aware of it, was helpful to me on some level."

"I hope so," Clark agreed with a nod. "You know I always try to be there for you when ever I can."

"You're a good friend," Lex grinned. "But then again, I'm a loony tune, so what do I know."

"Lex," Clark slapped his forehead with laughter.

The levity was dying down when Lana Lang entered the room. She was holding up a letter and a small white box. "Clark," she called out to him slipping into the vacant spot to his left. "Look what I got in the mail today."

Lex leaned in as he saw a silver chain with a large piece of a green gem dangling on the end. "Wow," he commented. "Some one must really like you to foot the bill for that rock."

"It's from Whitney," She announced handing it to Clark. "Help me put it on."

"Sure," Clark grinned as she turned away and pulled up her long dark hair.

"Whitney?" Lex questioned. "How could Whitney send you such a nice gift?"

"Oh, come on, Lex," Lana turned back and admired the jewelry. "Whitney knows Clark and I are an item now, but we are still good friends and write back and fort all the time."

"Yeah," Clark added. "We've even shared a few joke e-mails with each other over the last year."

"But Whitney," Lex started.

"Oh," Lana interrupted. "He wanted me to tell you that he was reassigned and is now stationed at one of the royal palaces over in Iraq." She spoke to Clark as Lex listened on. "He said it is one of the best duties he has had since he got to the Middle East. He's away from all the real danger for the most part."

"Well! Thank goodness for that," Clark hugged her. "I'd hate for something to happen to Whitney now that he and I have become friends."

"Wait a minute," Lex spoke up not able to hold his peace anymore. "Whitney Fordman is living over in Iraq?"

"Yeah," Lana and Clark said at the same time.

That strange feeling overcame Lex and he had to jump up off the sofa. His stomach was churning like never before, and every fibber of his body was sounding off one type of alarm or other. He made his way back over to the tree and held up the angel in his hand again. Along the way, the angel had shattered and only shards of glass remained in his hand.

"Lex," Clark was at his side in a flash and held up the blood cover arm. "My God, are you okay?"

"I'll get a cloth and the first aid kit," Lana said as she rushed from the room.

"Lex," Clark shook his friend slightly. "What's wrong, are you okay?"

A look of horror was on Lex's face as he turned slightly towards Clark.

"What, Lex?" Clark tried to get him to speak. "What is it?"

"Something is very wrong, Clark," Lex finally spoke. "Something is very out of place, and I think I know what is it."

Clark tried to get a read on Lex from his facial expressions, but even on a good day, Lex was very difficult, if not unwilling to be read. So he was forced to go along with the ride of his emotions. "What is it?" He asked. "What do you think is out of place?"

Looking down at his second hand, some how the blood had run on that one too, and a stream of the red fluid covered the sweater over his chest and stomach.

"Oh, dear God," Lex heard his father's voice ring through his head, but it was only he and Clark in the room. "Get some help."

"Lex," Clark grabbed his friend to steady him. "What is it? What is going on?"

"Whitney," Lex said about two inches from Clark's face. "Whitney Fordman is what's wrong."

"Whitney?" Clark repeated. "What is wrong with Whitney?'

"The letter," Lex added. "Whitney couldn't be writing to Lana or even you. It is impossible, and that much I know is true."

"Why, Lex?" Clark felt as if he were digging through a haystack for a needle, but in Lex's head, getting the answers he needed to obtain were done in about the same manner.

"Lex?" Clark shook him again. "Why is it impossible for Whitney to write to us?"

The thought took a few seconds for Lex to process, but he knew the answer was there and he knew he needed to search deep for it. After a short while, his face went completely white and his hands shook as he grasped at Clark's shirt smearing blood everywhere.

"He," Lex's voice croaked. "He's dead, Clark. Whitney Fordman died about a year ago. He was killed on the battlefield."

"Lex," Clark's eyes seemed to mist up. "Get a hold of yourself, buddy. Whitney is fine."

"No, Clark," Lex buried his face in Clark's shirt. "He's dead." He turned his head and leaned against Clark's body. "They're all dead, Clark."

The weeping and gnashing of his teeth tugged hard at Clark's heart as they both slumped to the floor. The pool of Lex's blood seemed to encircle them next to the glow of the Christmas Tree lights, and in the distance, Bing Crosby's 'White Christmas' played on.

To Be Continued

Thanks for the reviews so far, and look for chapter three December 22,2004 and the final Chapter on December 23,2004. Please enjoy and let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter Three

SEQ CHAPTER h r 1**Perfection: A Smallville Christmas Story**tc "**Perfection: A Smallville Christmas Story**" Chapter Threetc "Chapter Three" 

The warmth of the room seemed to surround him and engulf his entire world. Lex laid on the bed trying to remain in the safe cocoon of sleep that had enveloped him suddenly, although he had no real knowledgeable memory of how or why.

"Alexander," the voice nagged at him as a hand nudged at his shoulder. "It time to come back to us."

"Go away," Lex groaned as he attempted to push the intruder away. "Five more minutes."

"Lex," the voice seemed much softer and perhaps with a little more concern. "Lex, please wake up."

The voice was warm and familiar like the room and Lex forced his weary eyes open to look into the wide, worried eyes of his best friend. It was clear from his farm boy expression that Clark Kent was very concerned and had been there for a long time waiting. "Oh, thank God," the dark haired teen gushed. "Everyone was starting to worry if you would ever wake up."

"Clark?" Lex eyed the room with a cautious stare. It was a room he had seen before. "What am I doing in your bedroom?"

"I brought you up here after you passed out," Clark explained, checking him over. "Everyone wanted to call 911 after you cut yourself, but you seemed to freak out at just the mention of going to hospital. I guess you could still hear us even when you were asleep."

"My father," Lex tried to sit up but fell back unto the pillows. "I thought I heard my father's voice again."

"His and everyone else's," grinned Clark helping Lex to sit up and propped a few pillows behind him to help him stay in that position. "We were all very concerned."

Lex raised his hands to see where he had been bandaged from cutting himself on the ornament. The golden red hue of the room was much like the one in the living room, but there was no tree or decorations to be seen. A soft almost hum of Christmas music could be heard as if from a distance. The even stranger thing was when he looked down, the large stain of blood on his shirt was now gone. Lex assumed that they had changed his sweater while he was sleeping, although he could not remember what he had been wearing before the accident. "I was hurt?"

"Yeah," Clark smiled politely. "Made a real mess, but my Mom was able to fix you up just fine. Everything is perfect again."

'Perfect' was not a word Lex had ever used to describe his life, but already the word had come up a few times on this night, and the subtlety to which it was used seemed to make him even more uncomfortable. He knew that something was deeply wrong with everything and perhaps everyone around him, and the fact that the idea of all being perfect only sat the heavier on his heart.

"Are you okay now?" Clark asked. "You look like you have some of your color back."

"Yeah," Lex forced a smile. "I'm okay."

"Great," Clark jumped off his seated position on the bed at Lex's side. "I should go and tell everyone that you're awake. I'm sure there will be a whole parade of people up here to see for themselves in the next few minutes."

"You're probably right," Lex nodded as Clark walked to the door.

Just as Clark's hand reached the knob, a question came to Lex's mind. "Clark?" He called out before the teen had a chance to open the door.

"Yeah, Lex?" Clark looked back.

"What were we talking about before I passed out?" Lex asked with concern. "I don't remember what it was, but for some reason, I know it was important."

Clark had to think for a minute, but then shrugged his shoulder. "I don't know, Lex. It must not have been important enough for me to remember."

"Really?" Lex gave a look of wonder.

"Hey," Clark grinned again. "I was too busy trying to keep you from falling to the ground and hurting yourself."

"You had my back," Lex chuckled.

"Don't I always, Lex?" Clark laughed back and then resumed his trek out into the hall.

The large smile stayed on Lex's face as he thought about his position. He was warm and cared for, and his best and closest friend in the world was always there to watch out for him, just as everything should be. Perhaps 'perfection' was a word that Lex could find room for in his life.

The feeling of comfort and warmth stayed with Lex until the door opened one second after Clark had disappeared behind it. He cocked his head up and waited for him to appear again from behind the position.

"What happened, Clark?" Lex called. "Did you forget to take my temperature as an extra proof to the others that I am okay?"

"Perhaps that would be better left for your mother," a soft woman's voice came back instead of Clark's and the sight of his lovely and radiant mother almost gave Lex a startle. The sickening feeling returned to his stomach again, only this time more quickly and stronger than before.

Lex plastered a smile on his face as she approached, but if the truth were to be known, he was too paralyzed to move. Perhaps from fear, surprise or joy, the reason was unclear, but Lex found him self incased in the presence of his mother.

She sat at his side leaning in as she took his head in her hands and placed her warm lips against his forehead. After a few seconds, she pulled herself away leaving a set of rose red lip prints on the spot she had kissed. "You always hated for me to do that when you were a child."

A warm smile came across his face. "Some how," he remarked meekly. "Its not so bad anymore."

"Good," Her large blue eyes looked back at him in that way that had warmed his heart on many cold winter nights. "There are some things a mother never outgrows."

Cupping her hands around his, Lex tried to melt to her calming effects, but still the nagging feeling in the pit of his soul kept eating away at him. He gave it everything he had so as not to let her see his inner anguish. "You had us worried," she spoke in the same soft tones that were filled with love and concern as only a mother could show.

"I know," Lex nodded slightly. "Clark told me, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry."

"I am your mother, Lex," she grinned. "It's my job to worry about you. I've been doing it since about nine months before you were born."

Lex gave a chuckle more to be polite than out of an actual desire for amusement. After a long while of searching over his face, Lillian sighed with a hint of disappointment. Even after trying so hard not to show his feelings, the fact that her eldest son had something weighing heavy on his mind was all too apparent to her, and she touched his face.

"What is it, Alexander?" She asked in her motherly way with a soft smile, a gentle touch and a hint of worry in her eye. "There's something troubling you. What is it?"

"I don't know, Mama," Lex used his childhood name with the woman who had given him so much affection his entire life. "I just have a bad feeling."

"Bad feeling?" Her brow creased. "Are you in pain, Alexander?"

"No," he shook his head once. "It's not a pain or even a worry," he tried to explain. "It is more like a feeling that all is not right in the world. Like something or maybe it's me, but something is out of place."

"How can that be?" she asked nudging at his hands. "We are all here as a family with our closes friends the Kents on Christmas Eve. All is right in the world, Alexander." She leaned in close. "All is perfect with our world, son."

There was that word again; the sound of it rang through his head like and echo in a large cave. Why was everything perfect?

"It's not perfect, Mom," Lex lowered his head. "If everything were perfect, then I would not be laying here after passing out from a little cut on my hand, and I would remember what happened before I fell sick."

"Don't push yourself," she caressed his face again. "You are just out of the hospital. Give yourself time."

"Another thing I can't remember," Lex almost snapped. "Why does everyone remember I was sick, but me?"

"You had a very serious breakdown, Alexander," she tried to sooth him. "Most people don't remember those things."

"You remembered yours," Lex said before thinking.

"Alexander," she turned away. "Why must we talk about such things?"

"I'm sorry, Mama," it was his turn to touch her arm. "I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm okay, sweetie," her smile was back big and bright as she turned back. "We mustn't think about such things. Not on this night of all nights. It's Christmas, and everything is perfect."

"Yes, Mama," Lex gave into her insistence.

Lillian leaned in and added another red blotch to his temple. "You take a few more minutes to rest, and then join us downstairs for eggnog and Mr. Kent's annual reading of the Christmas story."

"I will, " Lex smiled as she stood up. "Be sure to tell Mr. Kent not to start without me."

"Of course," Lillian smirked back not sure if his request were real or a jest.

"Mama," Lex called out as she opened the door.

"Yes, Dear," she looked back.

"I am sorry about bringing up your," he paused not sure if he should say the word, but then chose to call it, "you know."

"Don't give it another thought," she smiled back at her son. "It was never mentioned. Consider it a dead issue." With that said, Lillian slipped out of the room and from Lex's sight, but her parting words had left their mark on her son.

"Dead," Lex repeated as he sat up like a bullet in the bed. The conversation he and Clark had been having was brought back with a cold chill up his spine, and the knotting feeling in the pit of his stomach became a gagging sensation as Lex fought to keep his reflexes under control and doubling over from the 'now' physical pain.

Time had passed again, and Lex found himself looking out the second story farmhouse window watching the white whirlwind of snow falling outside of the window. The room was still warm and glowing, but Lex was too deep in thought to give any of the Christmas magic around him a second thought. He did not hear Clark slip into the room past the slightly opened door.

"Lex," Clark almost whispered as he approached. "Lex, are you okay?"

Lex stood still and silent with his eyes transfixed out at the white fields.

Clark stopped a few feet just behind Lex and looked over his shoulder for some reaction to his presence. "Lex," he started again. "You said you were going to be right down, and that was over twenty minutes ago. Everyone has already finished with my father's annual reading of the Christmas story and half way through their eggnog waiting for you to come down to open presents."

The reflection of Clark appeared next to his own when Lex decided to respond looking deep into his friend's holographic eyes. "It's not real, Clark," his words were spoken short and with a remorseful sorrow tempered by all of his self control, but a simple large tear rolled down his left cheek.

Clark gave a puzzled glance and a furrowed brow. "What's not real, Lex?"

Allowing his vision to falter for the first time since he took his stance at the window, Lex's eyes drifted down to the baseboard of the room, and then he turned slowly towards the room and Clark. "This Clark," he replied raising his vision. "This whole night and everyone in it."

"What are you saying Lex?" Clark inquired. "Do you think you are not here? Because I assure buddy, it's Christmas Eve, and you're in my house with our families."

"No, Clark," Lex stepped past him. "I've always thought of you having the perfect family life, and I have been welcome into the fold on occasions, so I know how warm and magical your home can feel." He stopped just before the bed, but stayed staring at the opposite wall. "It only makes sense that on Christmas Eve I would want to be there with my own family sharing that joy, but if you were truly Clark, then you would know as sure as I do, that this could and would not ever happen."

"Lex," Clark started.

"It's a dream, Clark," Lex stopped him short. "Or maybe a psychotic episode. Whichever, it is no more real than that picture on the wall."

Clark looked up at the picture Lex had been studying. "Those are my grandparents," he told him. "My dad's mom and dad used to own this house, and that is their wedding picture."

"No, it's not," Lex, said still staring. "Those are my grandparents."

"Don't be silly, Lex," Clark walked over to the frame. "This is my granddad and," he stopped as he took another look. "Oh, my goodness. Who are those people?"

"My grandparents, Clark," Lex said again. "But now," he got Clark's attention and he looked away. "It is my parents, Lionel and Lillian on their wedding day."

"Lex," Clark started but was silence again at the sight of Lionel and Lillian on his bedroom wall. "Whoa, how did you do that?"

"Its not real, Clark," Lex said with a sigh as turned to sit on the edge of the bed. "And neither are you."

The impulse was too great, and Clark had to look himself over complete with patting down his chest and belly. "But Lex, I'm right here. I'm always there for you."

"Just like I want to believe, Clark," he let out a hush breath. "But I remember now what happened just before I blacked out and woke up here."

"What are you talking about, Lex?" Clark sat on the opposite side of the bed and studied his friend from behind.

"You abandoned me when I needed you the most," Lex allowed another tear to fall. "I can't remember all the details as everything is still a little fuzzy, but I know in my heart of hearts when I needed you, you were not there for me. For some reason you ran out on me, and it is because of you that I am having these dreams."

"That's crazy, Lex," Clark regretted using the word a moment after it slipped past his lips. "You know what I mean. I am right here and we are all having the perfect Christmas."

Lex remained silent as he played with his hands.

"Lex," Clark jumped up and came around the bed to see him face to face. "Everyone you care about is here. All the people who have ever in the past and who in the present truly love you are here with you tonight."

"But they shouldn't be!" Lex clenched his jaw with the grief of the moment. "Not everyone who is here should be."

"Lex," Clark tried to calm him. "I think you are just getting a little worried because everything seems too perfect to you right now, but it's not too good to be true buddy. It's all real."

"Whitney is dead, Clark!" Lex snapped standing up and grabbing his collar. "Whitney Fordman died nearly a year ago on some foreign soil defending someone's freedom. He's dead, Clark."

Clark fell back a step with shock. "That's not true, Lex," Clark fought back. "I spoke with Whitney this morning when we called to wish everyone a Merry Christmas. He's alive and well in Afghanistan."

"Iraq," Lex's reflexes reacted before he even noticed.

"What?" Clark questioned.

Lex had to think about his own response, and then he answered. "Earlier you said he was in Iraq," he reminded. "I don't know why I remember that, but I think my subconscious is trying to tell me that I am on the right track here, and it's time for me to wake up."

"Lex," Clark began to protest again.

"That's why I kept feeling like everything was wrong, because it is," Lex told him.

"Just because I may have gotten the wrong country when I told you about Whitney earlier, is no reason to think everything is messed up," the teen tried to assure him.

"He's not the only one, Clark," Lex added. "Whitney is not the only person misplaced here."

"This is crazy, Lex," Clark's head almost tilted to one side with wonderment. He watched for a good long moment hoping for some hint of falter in his friend's eyes, and when none seemed to appear his eyes became wide as plates. "Really?" His voice stammered for a second. "Who else, Lex?"

"Whitney is dead. Clark," Lex took a deep breath. "And I think so are my mother and our brothers."

Clark turned away pulling his hair back with his hands and quickly turned back with a face full of hurt and confusion that almost broke Lex's heart. "This can't be right, Lex," he insisted. "You must be wrong, and when you were dreaming, you only thought they were dead."

Lex approached him again and placed his hands on his arms. "You're not real either, Clark," he spoke softly. "At least not here. Everything and everyone here is in my head."

"You can't be sure of that, Lex," Clark sniffed once. "I mean it feels real to me."

"That's because you don't know what real really is," Lex gave a short grin. "In my head, you are a part of this world, but this world is made up."

Clark looked down at his feet. "Then why am I here and you are telling me these things? Why am I starting to believe you that I am not real if I am suppose to believe I am real?"

Lex shrugged. "I'm not sure, but it must have something to do with how important you are to me when I need you." Clark's eyes showed he had questions. "You have always been there to rescue me most of the time for the last two years, and in my head, I think you are here to rescue me again."

Thinking for a moment, Clark asked, "What can I do for you, Lex?"

Lex looked into his eyes. "You can stop trying to make everything perfect, and let me wake up."

"Do you want to wake up, Lex?"

This was a question that even he was unsure he could answer, but the time would have to wait.

"Lex?" The voice of Julian interrupted them as he stood at the door. The elder Luthor son stood paralyzed at the sight of his little brother, and in spite of what he thought, he still found himself worried about what he might have heard.

"Julian," Lex's voice broke.

"Mom sent me up to make sure you were coming down," the younger boy said earnestly. "I'll leave and get out of your way, now."

"Wait," Lex almost dived the few feet to grab his brother's arm. "Where are you going?"

Julian turned with a surprised look. "Away, like you always tell me to."

The sound of how much he must have hurt his little brother's feelings in this world only tore at Lex's heart all the more. "You," he stumbled on his words again. "You don't have to leave. Stay here and talk to me a little while."

"I'm gonna go tell the others that you are on your way," Clark said, stepping past them as Lex slowly lead his brother into the room.

Julian watched Lex's hand attentively as he was lead over to the middle of the room. Lex took notice and released his grip at once. "I'm sorry," he said with a hush tone. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," Julian replied with a less than believable glance at his brother's new temperament. "Not yet at least."

"Yeah," Lex sat back on the edge of the bed, not sure of what to say next, but drinking in every inch of his little brother that he could. "We'll have to do something about that, won't we?"

Spinning his head around the room as if he were looking for some indication of the device that surely had his sibling under mind control, he turned back towards him. "What's going on, Lex?" He asked with a harsh tone. "Since when are you being so nice, even polite to me?"

"Well," Lex tossed his hands in the air playfully. "It's Christmas, and I thought that maybe this would be a good time to turn over a new leaf."

The eye of skepticism and suspicion, a Luthor family trait, was not lost on Julian as he raised his eyebrow with a questionable look. "What's wrong with you, Lex? Ever since you've gotten home from the hospital, you have been acting strange and now you keep getting sick. Is there something you are not telling me?"

"No," Lex tried to give him assured smile. "Can't I just be nice to my little brother?"

"You never have been before," Julian shot back. "You always said that it was the way dad wanted us to be with each other."

"Enemies?"

"Rivals," Julian returned.

Lex bowed his head in grief again. "It should never be like that, Julian," he said with a groan. "No matter what dad may or may not have wanted, I should have never hated you. I should have never reacted the way I did."

The tone of Lex's voice made it clear that there was more to his concern than just a little bullying from time to time. "What are you talking about?"

When Lex lifted his head, tears were streaming down his face and his lips were quivering. "I'm so sorry, Julian," he cried. "I didn't mean for it to happen. It was an accident."

"Lex," Julian started, but before he could continue his thought, Lex pulled him into a strong bear hug.

"I'm so sorry," he cried into his little bother's shoulder. "I didn't mean for it to happen that way."

The young boy seemed to shutter at his brother's behavior and tried to pull away.

"Don't," Lex held firmly. "Don't leave me again."

"We have to, Lex," Julian said freeing himself from his grip. "Everyone is waiting for us down stares."

"Julian," Lex's simple call of his brother's name became almost a scream.

The young boy turned back and stared from the door.

"Don't walk out that door," Lex spoke with fear in his eyes. "If you do, I may never see you again."

"What's going on, Lex?" the boy asked. "You're scaring me."

"I'm sorry," Lex said kneeling before him taking a hold of his arms. "I can feel it," his eyes were wide like a mad man. "They're trying to get me back."

"Alexander!" Lionel Luthor's voice boomed inside of Lex's head. "It's time."

"No!" Lex covered his ears screaming. "I'm not ready."

"Lex?" Julian dived down at his brother's side that was curled up on the floor holding his head. "What's wrong?"

"Don't let them take me away," Lex pleaded grasping his brother again. "Not yet."

"It is time to wake up, Lex," Lionel's voice boomed again.

"No!" Lex screamed again. "Please make it stop."

"Only you can do that, Lex," Clark's voice came in over the sound.

Looking up from the floor, Lex could see his friend standing tall over his slumped form. The teen was in the room again as if he had never left.

"Clark," Lex questioned. "What are you saying?"

"It's up to you," Clark smiled. "You have figured out that this cannot be real, so now the choice is for you to decide what is."

"I don't understand," Lex shook his head.

"It's all very simple," Clark held out his hands as if he were a scale counter weighing from one hand to the other. "You stay or you go. The choice is up to you."

The possibility of his choice sank into Lex as he looked back at his brother who was watching him with great concern. Clark's presence seemed to be missing from Julian's prospective as if he only saw Lex in the room.

"You need to decide quickly," Clark warned.

"Can't make that choice, Clark," Lex grunted looking down. "How can I?"

"Life is full of hard choices," the teen reminded.

"But this one can't be made, Clark," Lex shook his head. "All of this is not real. I feel it with every fiber of my being, but how do I leave this behind?" His face looked up. "How do I leave perfection?"

Clark did not say a word, but simply stared down.

"Why haven't you come for me yet, Clark?" Lex seemed to have a moment of clarity. "Why are you here, and not there saving me like you always do?"

Clark's eyebrow creased with concern.

"You abandoned me back at the ranch with Morgan Edge," Lex recalled. "I remember that now. You left me for my father and those doctors to drug me up even more."

"And you came here," a comforting smile returned to Clark's face. "The place of perfection in your head."

Lex's head slumped between his shoulders. "But it's not real."

"It's as real as you want it to be," Clark said.

Turning swiftly, Lex saw that Julian stood at the door again; only now Lillian was at his side.

"Lex," a stoic Lionel called from the opposite side of the room thru a haze that Lex assumed could only be his parted eyelid half awake.

Time seemed to stop as he kept looking back at the two sides of his family, living and dead, real and unreal, demanding and desired.

"The choice is yours," Clark's voice broke through the clouds as he stood over him helping him to his feet. "You must choose quickly, or all may be lost forever."

Lex stood silent and frozen with fear. In all of his life, he had never dreamed he would have to make this choice, or that the decision between reality and deception would be so hard. He knew that whichever choice he made, he would have to live with the regrets for the other choice not made a long time to come.

"I know," Lex finally spoke. "I know where I want to be." He took two steps forward and a fog filled the room. The choice was made, and Lex approached his decision with an assured stance.

**To Be Concluded.**


	4. Chapter Four

SEQ CHAPTER h r 1Perfection: A Smallville Christmas Storytc "Perfection: A Smallville Christmas Story"

Chapter Four:

He heard the footsteps approaching but made no effort to acknowledge them or even look up from his stare at the laptop monitor that sat on his knees. The loft was freezing cold but he still kept the top half of the hay loading door open as a soft gentle snow fell outside. He wore only his new Christmas sweater given to him on the last day of school by Chloe for warmth, but showed no signs of being cold.

"Clark?" His mother's gentle voice called from the top of the staircase as she and his father approached. "Didn't you hear us calling you for dinner?"

His only response was a slight tilting of his head twice. His eyes were dry, but it was apparent that he might have been recently crying which his sniffing once after the nod made all the more assuredly.

"I made all your Christmas Eve dinner favorites just like you like," Martha tried to coax her son from his funk.

He nodded once more.

"Come on, son," Jonathan tried to be jovial. "It's Christmas Eve. Couldn't you show a little more excitement than sitting up here in the freezing cold doing your homework?"

Clark looked up from the corner of his eye. "It's not homework, dad."

"Well, that's good to hear," Jonathan smiled. "I hate to think you are wasting your Christmas break doing school work."

"You'll have to forgive your father," Martha took the seat to Clark's left on the weather beaten sofa with a playful smile. "This is the man who would close his books the day before Thanksgiving and not opening them up again until some time about Washington's Birthday."

"That's not true," Jonathan defended himself. "It was closer to mid January."

They both watched eagerly to see if Clark would join in on their foolery, but his best efforts were a forced smile while still staring at the blank computer screen.

Martha tilted her head and looked at the monitor. "What are you working on?"

"A letter," he said dryly.

"A letter?" Jonathan asked from his stance over them. "Who to?"

Raising his head with a worried eye, Clark spoke to his father. "To Lex."

"Lex?" Jonathan crossed his arms with a scowl. "I thought we agreed that you were going to keep your distance from him for a while. At least until we got a clear picture of his condition and how much of what happened with you and Morgan Edge's car wreck he remembers."

Clark didn't say a word but let his eyes drift down.

"Well," Martha picked the computer off his lap. "It doesn't look like you have gotten very far with it. The page is blank."

"I know," Clark stood to his feet slowly and made his way over to the open loft. "I don't even know where to start."

"How about where we agreed that you wouldn't have any contact with him for a while," Jonathan suggested to Clark's back. "I don't think you can afford to deal with a man in a psyche ward who saw you using your abilities."

"Jonathan," Martha tried to hush him. "This is not the time for that. It's Christmas and Clark is feeling blue."

"Then call Pete or Chloe and ask them to come over for a visit," Jonathan replied. "Invite anyone you want, so long as his last name is not Luthor."

"Pete," Clark's head sank to his chest. "Is spending the holiday with his folks. The Ross' have been at each other's throats for weeks now, so they are hoping that spending Christmas with just family will bring them closer again."

"Then Chloe?"

"She and her Dad went to Metropolis to visit with her cousin, Lucy or something," Clark returned to the inquiry.

Martha placed the computer on the trunk Clark used for a coffee table and stepped next to him, wrapping her arms around his right one. "Have you tried visiting with Lana?"

"They won't let me in to see her," Clark looked out at the falling snow. "Her Aunt Nell came up with her new husband to spend the week with her, and I think they put a restriction order out on me. The nurses wouldn't even let me give her my present when I went by this morning. They said she was in therapy, but I saw her through the walls talking with Nell."

"I'm sorry," Martha placed her head on his arm. "I'm sure she will come around, eventually. Lana cares about you Clark, and she will remember that again one day soon."

"Sure son," Jonathan slapped him on the back and stood at his left side. "Give her just a few more weeks and then you can go over there and work her over with the old Kent charm."

"I don't know, dad," Clark shook his head. "You didn't see her face when she said she didn't want to be around me anymore. I think she really meant it."

"People change their minds, Clark," Jonathan draped his arm over Clark's shoulder. "And women do it best."

"Jonathan," Martha slapped his hand playfully. "Don't say that to your son. Let him make up his own mind about women."

"Sure," Jonathan did a one hundred and eighty degree turn and tilted his head back with a grin speaking softly in his son's ear. "And then she'll change it for you."

The small joke brought a slight smile to Clark face as his father walked away while Martha sighed heavily.

"Now let's go have some Christmas dinner," he announced back to them.

Martha pulled away and began her journey when they heard Clark's voice tell them, "I went to see him today."

Jonathan froze on the first step and looked up.

"What?" Martha said softly hoping she had heard wrong. "You went and saw who?"

Clark turned and faced his parents who seemed to be even colder as they pulled their winter coats in tighter. "Lex," he let the name slip from his lips. "I went to see Lex in Metropolis today."

"Oh, Clark," Jonathan rested his head on his arm that was raised on the banister. "Why would you go and do a thing like that?"

"Because," Clark spoke as his eyes shifted around the room for a few seconds with some uncertainty. "Because of all my friends, Lex was the only one who would have spent this Christmas with me, and I abandoned him when he need me."

"You left him with doctors who knew how to take care of him while you saved yourself from anyone finding out about your secret," his father spoke softly but sternly. "You had no choice but to get out of there."

"But I could have gone back for him," Clark insisted.

"No, you couldn't," Jonathan stepped back up to the flat. "Any contact with Lex right now would put you in jeopardy and I won't let you do that. Which is why I asked you not to do what you did today."

"Clark?" Martha stepped in. "Why would you risk yourself like that?"

"Because Lex has some kind of hold on him that makes him takes these crazy risks," Jonathan was growing angry with his son. "For the love of God, son, why would you risk everything we have fought all these years to protect just so you can keep a friendship with a man who does nothing but lie to you?"

"Because he's my friend," Clark spat out at his father. "And he needs me. We understand what it is like to be alone in this world, and we help each other feel less lonely when we are together. Besides, he's not the only one who lies"

"Then find someone else to lie to and be lonely with," Jonathan demanded, getting into his face. "I have tried to let you make your own choices as you have gotten older, Clark, but this one is too dangerous right now." His voice was softer and calmer. "You need to let go of Lex until we can at least figure out how much of this whole run in with Edge he remembers."

Clark turned away with a hurt look in his eyes.

"Clark," Jonathan was not going to be ignored. "Are you listening to me?"

There was no response from their son as Jonathan touched his arm. "Answer me, son."

Clark turned his head back with tears in his eyes. "You don't have to worry, dad," he sneered. "Because Lex never even knew I was there today. He was in some kind of catatonic state or coma or something."

"Oh, my goodness," Martha placed her hands over her mouth. "What happened?"

Clark sniffed a few times and looked at his mother's soft eyes. "Lionel wouldn't let me in or even talk to me, but I was able to convince one of the on-call doctors to tell me what he knew, and it isn't good."

Swallowing hard, Jonathan rubbed his hand down Clark's arm hoping to provide some small comfort. "What," his words were hard to find, but he pressed forward. "What did they say?"

Clark leaned against the half door as his parents stood behind him listening.

"He said that Lex has still been hallucinating, and not just about Julian, but about a lot of things. Some that they can't even figure out," Clark explained. "They have been trying a series of new medications to counteract the ones that were slipped to him in his drinks, but they seem to have made matter worse the last few days as he seemed to be just slipping away. He won't even wake up anymore."

"Oh, poor Lex," Martha commented.

"Today they say he flipped out completely and put his hands through the large partition between his room and the hallway," he continued. "They didn't think anyone was strong enough to bust that glass, but they underestimated Lex's dream state."

"Is he okay?" Martha asked.

"They said there was blood everywhere and he needed a few stitches, but he made it through alright," Clark told her. "They said Lionel has been by his side calling his name even more so after the accident than before."

"Calling his name?" Jonathan questioned.

"Yeah," Clark nodded out to the falling snow. "He said that sometimes it seems like Lex is starting to come out of it, but something in his head keeps pulling him back in deeper into his dreams. It's like he doesn't want to leave wherever he is in his mind."

"I'm sorry, son," he placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know this is upsetting to you, but the mind can be a very powerful thing sometimes. There is no telling how long Lex will be gone."

Clark's head sank lower as his shoulder began to rise and fall quickly. He buried his face in his hands and leaned forward. Martha wrapped her arms around him tightly and pulled him to her as he cried into her arms.

"I want him back, Ma," he sobbed. "I want them all back here where they belong."

"I know," Martha stroked his hair. " I know, baby."

For the next several minutes Clark cried quietly into his mother's embrace as his parents tried to comfort him, but there was little they could do to relieve the burden from their man-child of a son. Life lessons were sometimes hard to learn, but they always left their mark on the human soul, and this Christmas was going to be one of those scarred memories for the young Kent boy.

"Lex," the elder man stooped over the younger man who was harnessed down to the hospital bed and spoke into his ear. "It's time to come back to the real world, son."

After several minutes of no responses, he looked up at the African American female who stood on the opposite side of the bed. "You said he would be waking up by now, doctor. Why hasn't my son woken up yet?"

"As I have explained many times over, Mr. Luthor," she sighed heavily. "We need to allow time for the effects of the drugs to work their way through Lex's system completely before we can attempt to force him back to consciousness."

"Then when will that be, Doctor?" Lionel Luthor asked. "Lex has already been here for a few weeks, and I have seen no progress. The blood he lost this afternoon due to your hospital's inept handling of his condition would constitute enough for a medieval bloodletting removing much of the toxins with it. So why is his system still not responding?"

"May I remind you, Mr. Luthor," she seemed to be growing impatient with his demands. "It was at your insistence that we begin the memory altering drugs so soon after his arrival that reacted badly with the former drugs already in his system that have caused this condition. Adding the fact all the blood lost has weakened him even further, so he would be borderline conscious even in the best situation." She paused for a second and then spoke softly. "The mind is a very complicated thing. If Lex's subconscious is happy where ever his dreams have taken him, then any amount of reduction in the medication will not be able to bring his fragile mind back until he is ready."

Lionel looked back down at Lex's sleeping form. "But I have seen him open his eyes at least once already. Why wouldn't he wake up from the sheer multitude of lights in this room?"

"Many people are able to sleep with their eyes open, Mr. Luthor," she explained. "But Lex is even further away than mere sleep. Again the mind is a very complicated thing, but to boil it down simply, if your son is unwilling to wake up, then he won't until he is ready."

"Or forced to," Lionel gave her a cursed look. "There are ways of making Lex wake up, are they're not?"

A small amount of shock came across her face. "Yes," she almost stuttered. "Yes, we have a way to force a tentative conscious state in patients of this condition, but Mr. Luthor, in your son's highly erratic and weakened state, I would advise against it. There is no telling what something like that could do to add to his fragile state of mind."

"Need I remind you, doctor," he stood to his full height with firm resolve. "I am the one paying you for results in my son's condition, and I am asking you to awaken him from this drug-induced state."

"But Mr. Luthor," she began.

"Tonight, Doctor Foster," he insisted.

It took her a few moments to fully comprehend the resolve of his demand, but she knew she would be mistaken to go against his order, so she nodded her head and left the room.

Lionel watched her leave with a cautious eye and once she was gone, he turned back to Lex and smiled down as his son. "You'll finally have your wish, Lex. We are going to spend a Christmas together, and I will not allow you to sleep through it.

The snow began coming down in more steady sheets of white for the next hour as Martha stood over the kitchen sink cleaning the last of the supper's dirty plates when she heard the phone ringing. She glanced over her shoulder to see where Jonathan had already fallen asleep in front of the TV watching 'It's a Wonderful Life'. As was usual after a full hearty meal, he had not even made to the point where George makes his wish after his failed attempt to jump off the bridge.

She tried to be annoyed at his lack of hearing anything outside of his dreams, but could not help herself as a smile crossed her face at the thought of his contentment. It was at the third ring when she finally dried her hands on the dishtowel next to the sink and picked up the cordless receiver.

"Merry Christmas," she cheerfully called out to the mystery caller.

"Merry Christmas back at yah, Mrs. Kent," Pete Ross's voice came from the other end of the line. "And how are you guys doing on this snowy night?"

"Very well," she nodded her head with a smirk. "We missed you for Christmas Eve dinner. I made your favorite ham with the honey glaze."

"Oh, Mrs. Kent," Pete faked a growl. "You sure do know how to hurt a guy on the holiest of nights. But I'll forgive you if you manage to save me a few slabs of that heavenly ham of yours for when I come over next time."

"Sure, Pete," she laughed. "If I manage to pry a slice or two from the hands of my two 'eat until you explode' guys, then it's yours."

"Thanks, Mrs. Kent," Pete was satisfied with his victory of securing some ham. He knew that Martha, like all Kent's was good at her word. Even on something as trivial as leftovers. "So is my best bud around anywhere?"

"He's up in his room," she replied making her way up the hall to the stairwell. "He has been sulking all day and I think your phone call is just the thing he needs to cheer him up."

She stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked up into the small hall at the top landing outside the bedrooms. "Clark?" She called up. "Pete is on the phone for you. Pick up the extension from my bedroom."

Her loud howler woke Jonathan from his light sleep and he sat up on the sofa looking over at her. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she gave him a small smile. "Its just Pete calling for Clark."

"Oh," he yawned.

"Clark," she called again after hearing no movement and pressing the phone to her chest. "Clark, Pete is on the phone, pick up."

There was still no movement on the second floor of the house by the time Jonathan made his way over to his wife's side. He looked around cautiously and then noticed something missing from the hook next to the door.

"Martha," Jonathan taped her shoulder lightly with his index finger. "I don't think Clark is up there."

Martha turned swiftly following his line of sight. The spot where Clark's winter jacket usually hung, more often after her picking it up off the floor than not, was emptied but a short note had been taped to the wooden coat rack.

"Pete," Martha raised the phone to her ear and spoke slowly watching as Jonathan took the letter and began to read it. "I will have Clark call you later. Thank you for calling, Merry Christmas."

"Wait," Pete's voice could be heard calling. "Is everything al…" but she pushed the talk button and terminated the connection.

"What is it?" her eyes were filled with fear. "Did he?" She could not even finish her thought as they had both known what had happen even before they read the note.

Jonathan glanced up and then again to the note. "Dear mom and dad," he read. "Please don't be mad. I needed to see if Lex was all right. I am sorry, but I can't help but feel like this is partly my fault. Don't worry, I'll be careful." His eyes almost glazed over as he read. "Love, Clark."

"Oh, Jonathan," Martha looked down at the note and read it again to herself. "What are we going to do?"

"The only thing we can when you have a son who can move at the speed of light," he pulled her into his arms. "We wait and we pray. Whatever happens, Clark is going to do to have to get through this on his own."

Martha returned the embrace and began to sob softly. "He's going to be so hurt."

Lionel Luthor stood at the top of the steps out front of the Bell Reeve hospital watching the snow falling outside protected by the covering of the cement over hang above his head. His breaths were echoed in large pillows of smoke from his mouth as he stood his silent vigil just watching the white powder fall.

"Mr. Luthor," a voice called from behind as it approached. "I've been looking all over for you."

"A little dramatic, don't you think?" He looked over at the woman addressing him. "I have been out here the whole time, Doctor Foster. There was no reason to look elsewhere."

"Of course," she could not help but still be apprehensive around this man who seemed to hold so much power over so many people. "Are you all right, sir?"

"I am perfect," he grinned with a control over his emotions that she knew from her years at practice that too few other people could maintain. "It is Christmas Eve, it's snowing enough to satisfy any holiday enthusiast, and you are here to tell me that my son is about to wake up."

On the last few words, he turned his head looking back over his shoulder with an assured stare in his eyes. "That is what you are here to tell me, is it not?"

"Yes, of course," she stumbled on her own words. "Everything is set up, and we are ready to administer the medication at your request."

"Very good," Lionel turned fully and faced her with a large toothy grin. "Then let us begin."

"Mister Luthor," she placed her hand on his arm before he could move and quickly removed it, wrapping both limbs around her cold body. "I must again warn you of the devastating risk involved with forcing your son to consciousness in such a delicate state that he is in. The effects could be long term, sir."

"I am willing to take that risk, doctor," Lionel scowled.

"Are you willing to risk his death?" She spoke quickly as if pleading with him. "I have been monitoring your son for the last few hours and his health is very frail right now. He is stable and will get better, but a jolt to his system like you are asking for could kill him."

Lionel eyed her cautiously for a while.

"Please Mr. Luthor," her eyes were sincere and honest. "Above all else, I must consider the health of my patient, and I am asking you to reconsider this procedure. Lex is not strong enough to handle it."

"Then that is a chance I am willing to take, Claire," he showed no signs of giving in. "You have no idea what my son is capable of handling. I will be the judge on whether or not he should be awoken."

"He's happy where he is," Claire Foster was going to give it one final attempt to sway his plan before she would be forced to risk his life. "I have been watching, and he keeps smiling. Wherever he is, Lex is enjoying himself and thinks he is with people he loves. I do not see the harm and allowing him to stay there another twenty-four hours while his body is able to adjust to the transfusions and he regains some strength. Let him have his own happy Christmas."

Lionel stepped into her personal space and met with her eyes six inches away. "You will do as I have requested, Doctor Foster," he sneered. "Or I will take my son and my funding of this hospital elsewhere. Perhaps somewhere where they are not as studious of Lex's physical health as well as his mental state." He paused to add drama to his words, and then he finished. "Do I make myself clear, doctor?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded her head twice.

"Mr. Luthor," another voice called up from the bottom of the stone steps. Turning slightly, Lionel could see Clark Kent's dimly lit form in the light from the deck as the snow fell softy over him. "Please listen to what she is telling you, sir."

Lionel glanced back at Dr. Foster. "Go get ready and I will be in shortly."

"Please, Mr. Luthor," Clark pleaded again as he stepped up to the flat as Doctor Foster disappeared into the building. "You have to listen to her. You can't risk Lex's life like this."

"I can do whatever I wish, Mr. Kent," Lionel growled. "If I wish my son to be woken from this cationic trance or coma, if you will, and I have the means to do it, then I have every right to bring him back to the real world."

"Even if it kills him?" Clark brow creased.

"We Luthors are made of much sterner material than you would think, young man," Lionel assured him. "Lex will be able to see his way through this just as he has seen his way through numerous harrowing events that would stifle the common man."

"But, Mr. Luthor," Clark started to Lionel's raised hand.

"Go home and spend Christmas with your family, Clark," he waved him off. "And let me have Christmas with my son."

"But," Clark was being persistent when Lionel pulled a handful of glowing green beads from his suit coat pocket and held them out. Forcing Clark to take a step back, unaware to Lionel.

"Do you know what these are, Clark?" Lionel asked holding them out.

"I'm not sure," Clark lied trying not to show that he needed to brace himself against the column behind him.

"They are small pieces of the meteor fragments that they found with Morgan Edge," he told Clark admiring the jewels. "Morgan had them made into some type of prayer beads or such, and they were destroyed in his confrontation with Lex. I plan to throw them into the east river where he should have stayed the last time he died, but I needed to hold onto them for a few days as a symbol that we Luthors will always overcome anything or anyone who comes against us."

"But this procedure will kill him," Clark managed to growl as Lionel slipped the beads back into his thick pocket.

"Perhaps," Lionel sneered again. "If you had brought Lex to me like I had asked in the first place, then his condition would have never resulted to such a dire state." His hand slapped Clark's face once softly. "I know what is best for my son."

He turned and opened the door to go inside as Clark was straightening from the last of the meteor rocks effects that he was able to pass off as grief and made one last attempt.

"She said he was happy were he was for now," he called out. "Can't you let him heal in that happy place for just a little while?"

"My son is hallucinating about spending time with his mother and dead sibling," Lionel called back looking over his shoulder. "It is time for Lex to return to the real world."

"But even if he lives," Clark gave one last ditch effort. "He won't be happy. He'll still be sick."

"And one day he will recover," Lionel spoke for the final time. "And then he can be happy. Tonight, he will be here where he belongs. Not in a world of make believe."

"A world," Clark said as the door began to close. "Where you wish you could be instead of him. Because he's with Lillian and Julian and he is happy, and that is killing you." The door closed tightly as the last word was spoken, but he knew he had been heard.

Inside, Lionel leaned against the heavy metal doors and sighed. His mind was reeling from the last few minutes, and he had only the time of the walk from there to Lex's room to decide what to do. But he was sure he had already made up his mind.

Outside, Clark leaned his head against the cold metal. Every fiber of his body was telling him to rush in there at top speed and rescue his friend from his father, but he knew that any attempt to move Lex now would only make matters worse and maybe kill him.

He had made his case and pleaded his side as well as Doctor Foster, and now it was up to Lionel to make the right choices. With everything else that had gone wrong in his life the past few weeks, he needed to place his trust in the only man who could destroy him in an instant if he knew the power he held over Clark with those beads in his right pocket.

Clark had promised his parents he would not risk revealing his powers before Lex again, and with Lionel holding the Kryptonite, there was little he could do without risking Lex further even if he tried. The war was over, and the fate of his friend was in the enemy's hand. On this, the holiest of holy nights, Clark had to trust in his faith that Lex's father would do the right thing.

With that resolve he stepped off the stoop into the cold night air and falling snow. Somewhere in the distance a soft gentle woman's voice could be heard through the bright Christmas lights around him as she sang of 'Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas.'

_Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas_ tc "_ Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas_ " l 3 

_(From the film ' _Meet Me In St. Louis'_ Hugh Martin, Ralph Blane 1943) _

The snow was falling as Clark looked back over his shoulder at the hospital.

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas,_

A snowflake fell against his warm cheek and melted.

_Let your heart be light_

His bare hand wiped away the flake.

_Next year all our troubles will be out of sight_

Clark sniffed away the rest of the flakes on his face.

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas_

He looked up into the dim night sky.

_Make the Yuletide gay,_

With warm tears streaming down his cheeks he parted his lips.

_Next year all our troubles will be miles away._

As in so many times before, Clark prayed.

_Once again as in olden days,_

He prayed with the urgency of a small child.

_Happy golden days, of yore._

Inside Lionel watched as Dr. Foster placed a needle in the IV tube.

_Faithful friends who were dear to us_

He watched as silent smile cross Lex's sleeping face.

_Will be near to us once more._

Just as she was about to press the plunger, Lionel grabbed her arm.

_Some day soon we all will be together_

Without looking up or saying a word, he removed the needle.

_If the Fates allow_

Rubbing a hand across his son's head, he smiled.

_Until then we'll have to muddle through some how_

"Merry Christmas, Alexander," he spoke softly.

_So have yourself a merry little Christmas now._

"Merry Christmas to all of you."

And the music played on.

Outside, Clark looked up at the room using his x-ray vision and smiled. Even if he were not going to have a merry Christmas, then perhaps somehow Lex would find a way to have one of his own. With an accomplished grin, Clark turned back to the road ahead and ran home to spend the rest of the holiday with his family.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, Lex Luthor was awoken from his trance state by a voice he had come very comfortable with in the past three years.

"Lex?" Clark called to him as he turned to see his worried friend. "Are you okay?"

Lex raised his hands and studied himself from head to foot for a moment and then returned Clark's stare. "Yeah, Clark, I'm fine."

"Good," his young friend gave a sigh of relief. "You had me worried there for a minute again."

"Sorry about that," Lex forced a smile onto his face. "I guess I am still tired from our snowball fight earlier. What were we just talking about?"

A puzzled look came to Clark's face. "I not sure? Was it important?"

Lex thought for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. "No, I guess not."

"Good," Clark stepped up next to him reaching around and slapping him on the back. "In that case, what do you say we get back to the party downstairs and do some serious damage to some of the brightly wrapped gift boxes?"

Reaching around, Lex returned the gesture and smiled widely. "Sounds like a plan, Kent."

The two young men left the soft glowing bedroom and made their way down the hall into the joyful noises of laughter and merriment one flight below. The soft orange hue of the house only added to the warm gentle feeling all around them, and Lex reveled in the sights and sounds of another Kent, Luthor and friends Christmas.

There was no telling how long the party went on that year, but Lex didn't care. With his parents at his side and Julian long since asleep on his lap where they sat on the floor next to the tree, he sipped on his room temperature hot chocolate and listen as Jonathan read the Christmas story from the Bible for the third time that night. While wearing his mother's latest 'less than perfect' attempts at a knit hat, scarf and mittens set, he glanced over to where Clark had Ryan wrapped in a blanket in one arm, leaning against the sofa and with Lana's head on his other shoulder. Chloe and Pete were having a quiet contest to decide who could stuff the most sugar cookies into their mouths at the coffee table while Martha continued to pour cups of Jonathan's world famous hot chocolate into every mug with so much as a sip missing.

"So," Clark lean over carefully as not to wake Lana or Ryan with a large grin on his cheery face and asked softly. "What do you think of this year's Christmas Eve party?"

Taking in a full glance of his parents in each other's arms listening to the Christmas story and running a hand through Julian's hair on his lap, Lex turned back with his own warm smile. "One word, Clark," he spoke softly with a hint of glee in his voice. "Perfection."

The End

God Bless everyone who took time to read this, and Merry Christmas!


End file.
